


Taking Care

by nightchandac



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightchandac/pseuds/nightchandac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is in response to the prompt "taking care of the other while sick".  Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

Quinn stood on the bridge in his usual parade rest while Alecks surveyed the galaxy map.  He watched her out of the corner of his eye and felt an unwelcome warmth spread over him.  He knew it wasn’t from simply watching his lord set navigation coordinates and stifled the urge to tug at his collar.  He tried to keep his breath steady, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“Take a seat, Quinn. Relax,” Alecks said, clearly sensing his distress.

“Thank you, my lord.” He quickly sat in the navigator’s seat and pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to massage away the pressure building there.

“Something wrong?” she asked, her voice slightly distant as she focused on the map.  She was trying to trace Jaesa’s movements through the Force and by focusing on the map, she could get a clear route to her apprentice. It was a training exercise.  Jaesa had mentioned some Jedi being able to do the same, so they had taken to practicing this for the past month.  They had been traveling all over the galaxy, back and forth, and frankly Quinn knew it was starting to take its toll on the crew.

“Nothing of import, my lord, I assure you,” he replied, his voice a little strained.

“Malavai, please—I can tell when you’re lying.”  

He sighed, resigning. He hung his head before spinning the chair slowly to face her.  “I’m afraid I’m coming down with some sort of sickness, my lord.  In all honesty, I’m not feeling very well at all.”

Alecks finally looked up at him and couldn’t hide the surprise she felt.  He looked dreadful.  His pale skin was now impossibly paler and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the barest hint of flush on his cheeks.  When he brought his hand to his forehead, she noticed he was shaking slightly.  “Captain, this is unacceptable,” she nearly barked and Quinn’s head snapped back up and he winced at the movement.

“M—my lord?”

She reached out and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.  Neither of them spoke as she all but dragged him along to their quarters, though Quinn was forming every argument imaginable against having his lord take care of him.

She sat him on the bed, suggesting he lie down but he merely sat and watched as she pulled his sleep clothes from the small dresser they shared.  To his surprise, she pulled her own out as well.  After folding the clothes neatly on the bed, she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and he closed his eyes.  Her hands were probably not as cold as they felt, but he welcomed the coolness of her touch.

“Well, you don’t have a fever, so that’s good,” she said, pushing his hair from his face and kissing him gently on the top of his head.  He leaned his head into her chest as she massaged his scalp, closing his eyes. “Come,” she said, pulling him to the refresher.  He looked at her quizzically but followed, too tired and drained to argue.

Carefully, she undressed him and herself while the tub filled.  She let him in first then sat behind him, pulling him back to rest against her chest.  Initially he was embarrassed that he required such care, but as she massaged him and they simply sat in the pleasant-smelling bubble bath, he was glad to have her.  He ached to kiss her but didn’t dare risk her catching his sickness.

Before the water lost all heat and bubbles, she drained the tub and dried him off, caressing him ever so gently as she did so.  He insisted on dressing himself, feeling sufficiently helpless already.

Once they were both dressed, she settled him into the bed and with a quick nip on his nose, she left him alone without a word.  He assumed she was leaving him to rest alone and as he settled further into the pillows he began to drift off into welcome unconsciousness.

When Alecks returned with a cup of steaming tea, she simply smiled at her husband, fast asleep.  She quietly placed the mug on the bedside table and crawled into bed with him.  She combed her fingers through his hair, gently raking her nails over his scalp—just the way he liked.  A little color had returned to his face, but he still looked exhausted.  “You work yourself too hard, dear…” she whispered, barely a breath, into his hair.  

Several hours later, Quinn woke with his head in Alecks’s lap.  Forgetting himself for a moment, he smiled widely and admired her restful state. It was refreshing to see his wife—the usual vision of malice, mischief, and ferocity—sleeping soundly curled around him.  She must have sensed he was awake as she stirred from slumber as well.

“Feeling any better?” she asked him, trying to shake the sleep from her voice.

He closed his eyes and focused inward momentarily.  He was still achey, but the immense pressure in his head was now only a nagging pressure. “I’ll live.”


End file.
